


Episode 1: Our Cup Runneth Away

by LittleQueenTrashMouth



Series: ATLA/Schitt's Creek AU [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Schitt's Creek
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, F/M, Schitt's Creek AU, Swearing, Zuko is David and Azula is Alexis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27498778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleQueenTrashMouth/pseuds/LittleQueenTrashMouth
Summary: When Ozai Yoshida bankrupts his multi-million dollar company and runs off with his secretary, his family is left broke and alone. Ursa has no choice but to move herself and her two adult children to a tiny town in the middle of nowhere to live in a motel owned by her brother-in-law, Iroh. They are not very happy about it.*****The ATLA Schitt’s Creek AU that nobody asked for!
Relationships: Aang/Azula (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: ATLA/Schitt's Creek AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009608
Comments: 27
Kudos: 66





	1. selfish and duplicitous

**Author's Note:**

> So excited to start this series! Each fic in the series will be an “episode,” though I make no promises about when I’ll get each episode published. There will be an overarching plot, but also lots of character building and shenanigans! The two main endgame ships are Azulaang and Maiko, but it’ll take us a minute to get there.
> 
> I have to thank  irresistible revolution for being an amazing sounding board and finding ways to blend these very different TV shows together! About 75% of what you see here is due to her, please go check her out!

Ozai was not a great man, not even a good man. His sole redeeming quality was that he brought in enough money for his family to live comfortably, and worked hard enough that he was barely home to bother them.

Ursa continued thinking this up until he abandoned them and left them completely broke.

“That son of a _bitch,_ ” she fumed, one hand clenched tightly around her phone as she watched the news report on the television that was no longer hers. 

_”Ozai Yoshida, founder and CEO of Phoenix Gyms, has been under investigation by the IRS for the past few months, due to reports of money laundering and tax evasion. Before the case could go to trial, he emptied all of his accounts and has since disappeared. Sources say that he has retreated to the Cayman Islands with his secretary, leaving the rest of his family devastated by the loss. Neither his wife nor children have been able to be reached for comment.”_

It felt like she was walking through a dream. Her dirty, no-good, lying, cheating husband had stolen everything and run off to spend the rest of his life fucking his secretary on a beach in the Caymans. Ursa suddenly recalled, in crisp detail, Ozai buying a $2000 bottle of scotch for the girl’s 21st birthday, earlier that year. _Twenty one! Younger than your own children, you pig._

Once the courts determined that none of the rest of the family was involved, they were sympathetic but ultimately unhelpful. The money was gone, they told her. There was no one to threaten, no one to sue. They had nothing. 

Help came from a most unlikely source. In the midst of her ranting over her panicked childrens’ squabbling, she received a phone call from an unlisted number. It was Ozai’s older brother, the one who had disappeared in a much more tedious fashion. After the death of his son, he had taken his share of the family money and moved to Makapu, a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. He had seen the news, and he wanted to help. Ursa had no other choice, and she told her children that as well.

Which was how the three of them ended up outside a seedy motel, none of them eager to be the first to step into the lobby. 

“Ugh, why couldn’t Uncle have bought a motel in like, Malibu,” Azula complained, her thumbs working furiously on the screen of her phone.

“I thought you were like, banned from California,” Zuko replied, peering dubiously at the motel through the lenses of his oversized sunglasses.

“I’m not ‘banned from California,’ Zuzu,” Azula shot back. “I’m banned from one hotel in Los Angeles, because Emma Stone _told_ me that tiger was professionally trained and it turns out she just like, bought it from some sketchy guy on Craigslist.” She finally lifted her head from her phone and wrinkled her nose. “It smells weird.”

“Please, children.” Ursa had her eyes closed, her fingers on her temple, and was taking deep breaths the way her guru had taught her to when she became overwhelmed. “My Xanax is wearing off, try to hold it together at least until I find a pharmacy. Or one of you could hit me over the head and put me in a coma.”

Zuko and Azula sulkily stopped arguing, though neither of them followed through on her last request. With a decisive step forward, Ursa pushed open the door of the motel lobby, a tinny bell shrieking to announce their arrival.

Sitting behind the front desk was a gloomy-looking girl, who did a double take when they entered, perhaps not expecting such glamour to waltz in on a Thursday afternoon. A glance backward revealed that Zuko and Azula had walked in behind her, hunched down and huddled together as though they expected to be mugged. 

“Ursa!” The large man that had been hidden by the computer monitor stood up and moved around the counter, his arms open to embrace her. “I’m so sorry to hear about what happened.” That was a diplomatic way to say it, she thought as Iroh wrapped her up in a hug that smelled like tea and cinnamon. Some of the tension she had been carrying melted out of her. She hadn’t realized how nervous she had been to see Iroh, worried that she would see traces of Ozai in his brother. But there was nothing of her hard, cruel husband in Iroh’s kind eyes and gray beard. 

“Hey, Uncle.” Zuko at least had the decency to give Iroh a proper hug. Azula was absorbed in her phone again, not lifting her eyes even as Iroh wrapped one arm around her in an awkward shoulder embrace. 

“Anyway,” Iroh cleared his throat, folding his hands across his expansive stomach. “I’ve arranged for you three to stay here, at the motel. I know it’s unconventional,” his voice rose over the squawks of protest from the incoming Yoshidas. “But it’ll be far more comfortable than staying with me. I live in a one bedroom studio above my cafe.”

Ursa took one of what was becoming an alarmingly high number of deep, calming breaths. The idea of staying in this dingy motel filled her with...well, “dread” was not a strong enough word. She had grown up poor, and she was sure she had stayed in a motel or two when she was younger. But for the past few decades, she had grown accustomed to having money, and she had quite enjoyed it. Motels like this were something to be laughed at as you drove past them. _Towns_ like this were something to be laughed at as you drove past them.

She wasn’t laughing now.

“That will be…fine,” was the best she could muster up. “Thank you, Iroh.”

Iroh seemed convinced, cheerfully leading them out of the lobby to their rooms and chattering the whole way. “After a little bit of adjustment, I’m sure you’ll all be very happy here. The people are wonderful, so kind and welcoming. If you need anything at all and I’m not around, talk to Mai, the lovely young lady working the front desk.” He unlocked two adjoining motel doors and handed off the keys with a flourish. “The rooms have a door connecting them, I thought that would be more convenient for you. I’ll give you some time to get settled, then we can head over to my cafe for lunch.” 

Zuko and Azula went into their room, already grumbling about the lack of space. Ursa moved to open the door to her room, but Iroh stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” he said firmly, betraying that his earlier cluelessness was an act. “You are much stronger than my brother ever gave you credit for, and you will be okay.” 

Tears began to well up in Ursa’s eyes. Since everything had happened, she had cried for many things: the loss of her money, the sudden shock at the news, the humiliation from Ozai’s public infidelity. She had yet to cry for herself as a wife and mother who had been ruthlessly discarded by a man that didn’t seem to care if they lived or died.

“Thank you,” she managed to choke out, but Iroh waved it off. 

“I’ll be back in an hour, will that be enough time?” Ursa’s face crumpled into a grimace, and he laughed. “Two hours then.”

Ursa nodded, closing the door on Iroh’s retreating figure. She appraised her room, which was approximately the size of her closet back home in New York. The faint sound of Zuko and Azula chattering leaked through the door adjoining their rooms, betraying the motel’s thin walls. There was a lot of work to be done, unpacking and making this place liveable. First, Ursa primly stepped over to the bed, picked up the pillow, pressed it against her face, and screamed.

* * *

Both siblings stopped talking and looked up simultaneously at the muffled shrieks coming from their mother’s room. “Wow, she is losing it,” Azula noted, picking through her open suitcase. 

“Of course she is, she finally figured out that dad’s a prick,” Zuko replied. 

“You know you can’t blame all of your problems on dad forever.”

“Just because you’re a daddy’s girl doesn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole to the rest of us,” Zuko snapped, one hand instinctively going to touch the scar on his face. 

“I’m not a ‘daddy’s girl,’ I just know how to finish a basic task, which dad appreciates.” 

Resisting the urge to follow his mother’s lead and scream into a pillow, Zuko threw his own suitcase onto his bed, ripping the zippers open. “I can’t believe you’re still sticking up for him,” he needled, pulling out stacks of immaculately steamed and folded clothes. “It’s his fault we’re in this dump.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons for—”

“For abandoning us, stealing all our money, and cheating on mom with his fifteen-year-old secretary?” 

“Ew, gross Zuko! Kali is twenty-one, not fifteen!”

“As if that’s any better!” Zuko was tired of having this argument with his sister. No matter what, she could never be convinced that their father didn’t give a shit about them. Probably because he spent most of their childhood acting like he did care about Azula, pitting the two of them against each other whenever he could. Not that he had really needed to; Azula was naturally stronger than him, smarter than him, more savage than him. It was never really a competition.

Still, he couldn’t resist one last shot. “I guess we’ll see how you feel when he isn’t sponsoring your Instagram page anymore.” 

Azula froze. “You think he’d get rid of my Phoenix Gyms sponsorship?”

He gaped at her. “Are...are you kidding me? Phoenix Gyms is gone. It’s done. Extinct. Where have you been?”

“I guess I thought…” she trailed off, a line forming in between her eyebrows as she pondered this new development. “That can’t be right. I’ll ask Zhao when he comes to pick me up.”

This piece of news was so disorienting that Zuko misstepped, slamming his foot into the dresser and dropping the pile of clothes he had been holding. “Ow, fuck!” he hissed, hopping back over to the bed. “What do you mean, Zhao is coming to pick you up?”

“I was just texting him, he said he’s coming to get me as soon as Gwyneth Paltrow stops hogging his plane.”

“His plane...what?” Zuko glared up at her. “Shouldn’t he be in prison or something?”

“I guess whatever dad did had nothing to do with Zhao, he seems fine,” Azula shrugged, sliding her suitcase to the ground. Zuko only just now realized that she hadn’t been unpacking this whole time, just moving her clothes around. “He works with a bunch of different gyms, not just Phoenix.”

“So you’re just going to leave us here?” Zuko was halfway to shouting, but he didn’t care. “What kind of sociopath abandons her family in some vomit-soaked dump to gallivant around the world with her dumb boyfriend she met through her father?”

“Oh my _god,_ are you ever going to get over that Zhao works with dad?” 

“No!”

“Well now you’re definitely not coming with us,” Azula got to her feet and marched into the bathroom, then immediately marched back out. “There’s only one towel.”

Zuko was still glowering at her, sure that there was literal steam coming out of his ears. “What?”

“I said, there’s only one towel in the bathroom,” Azula enunciated, as though Zuko were an idiot. “Go get some more.”

“From where?” Zuko looked around the room, hoping that there was a clear indication of where he could find more towels.

“Go ask that goth girl in the lobby,” Azula said, exasperated. “She seems mean and emotionally stunted, so she’s exactly your type.” Ignoring all of Zuko’s whining, she returned to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

Zuko poked his head into the lobby, hoping his uncle would be behind the desk. Unfortunately, his bad luck continued; the dark-haired receptionist was alone at the computer. She was pretty, he thought, and not just in a “pretty compared to everyone else in this truck stop town” kind of way. She was elegant, poised, sitting upright in her chair with one arm draped over the back of it and her legs crossed at the knee. Her skirt was hiked up from the position, exposing long, toned legs. Zuko caught a glimpse of a tattoo curling around one thigh, but couldn’t tell what it was from here. Most alluring of all was that aloof, detached expression, the kind that said that she didn’t care what anyone thought of her. He was used to it in New York, but that was always a facade, a delicate balance to convey that you didn’t care what people thought while desperately craving attention. With her, it was a genuine disaffectedness.

It was much less attractive that her apathy apparently extended to her job, which was currently to make Zuko’s life less of a living hell. He fully stepped into the lobby, waiting for the girl to look up at the sound of the bell over the door. She did not.

“Um, hello,” he said awkwardly. Her gaze finally flickered up to him, though the expression on her face didn’t change. Again, he waited for her to say something, and again she left him hanging. “It’s...Meg, right?”

“Mai,” she corrected him, her eyes sliding back to the computer screen. Zuko frowned.

“Right, Mai. Can you like, look at me when I’m talking to you?” He didn’t mean to sound so petulant, but there was no way that he was the crazy one for expecting her to pay attention to him at her job. 

Mai sighed and slid her chair away from the monitor, pointedly sitting up and clasping her hands daintily over her knee. “My apologies, Mr. Movie Star.” The biting sarcasm was not lost on Zuko.

“Okay, I’m assuming you mean that I’m dressed well and have a star-like quality about me, in which case, thank you.”

“Actually, I’m talking about wearing giant designer sunglasses inside.” 

Zuko froze, his next witty comment drying up on his tongue. Normally he would have let that go, but she was kind of being a bitch, and she deserved to be embarrassed. Slowly, he reached up and pulled off the sunglasses, methodically folding them and sliding them into the pocket of his skinny jeans. Without the sunglasses shielding him, the large burn that marred the left side of his face was fully exposed. He waited for her to see it, to look away and stammer out an apology like everyone else did.

Instead, her eyes scanned across his face, only pausing for a microsecond at the scar. Her eyebrows lifted slightly, but that was the extent of her reaction. “So, how can I help you?”

“I need some more towels in my room.”

“I’ll get right on that.” With that, she slumped back down in her chair, pulling herself back over to the computer monitor. Zuko waited for her to make good on her promise, the scowl on his face deepening when he saw she had no intention of getting up.

“Correction, I need some more towels in my room _right now._ ” He raised his voice slightly to his “dealing with a difficult waitress” voice. “I would very much like to take a shower and wash the stench of this town off of me.”

“And I said I’ll get right on that.” Zuko gaped disbelievingly as Mai deliberately settled herself further into the chair.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Shoot.” 

“I think you’re kind of rude.” 

That was enough to get Mai to look back up at him, with the closest thing to a smile he had seen on her face yet. “Is that a question?” 

Zuko grit his teeth together. “Fine, _why_ are you so rude?”

“You’re being kind of a dick.” 

He took an actual step back at that, shocked. “I’m…you’re being a dick!” He drew himself up as tall as he could. “Besides, it’s your _job_ to serve me.”

Anger flashed across Mai’s face and she got to her feet. “I’ll get right on it,” she said again, and the hidden fury in her voice actually scared him. She disappeared through the door that led to the back office.

Zuko waited for her to reemerge, to go to the supply closet and get his freaking towels. After a few minutes he felt stupid standing alone in the empty lobby and called out, “Okay, I’ll just wait for them in my room then.” He left, unable to shake the feeling that he had badly lost a competition he hadn’t known he had been a part of.

* * *

Ursa could hear her children bickering about a towel through the half-open door dividing their rooms. She made a mental note that, if the argument lasted longer than half an hour, she would step in. At 25 minutes, there was a polite knock on her door, signalling Iroh’s arrival. Before long, the four of them were seated at a booth in Iroh’s cafe, the Jasmine Dragon. Zuko and Azula were still sniping at each other, using their elbows to try to establish more space at the table while they looked over their menus. Iroh was a much more polite seatmate, keeping his hands neatly folded in front of him.

“Get anything you want, it’s on me today,” Iroh announced, which finally got the kids’ attention. A short girl with her hair in a braid that went down to her waist bounced over, pulling a notepad and pencil out of her apron.

“Oh, Iroh, I’m glad you’re here.” She leaned down to murmur something that sounded like, “Suki needs help in the kitchen.” Ursa prickled at the waitress’s lack of manners, expecting Iroh to scold her. Certainly none of Ozai’s employees ever talked to him like that, especially when he had guests. 

Instead, Iroh smiled placidly and heaved himself out of his seat. “My apologies, it looks like I’m needed elsewhere. Ty Lee will take good care of you, and I’ll be back in as soon as I can.” He patted the waitress on the shoulder and sauntered off to the kitchen, leaving the rest of the family behind.

“I’m Ty Lee!” the bubbly waitress said, someone redundantly after Iroh had already introduced her. “I’m so sorry to hear about what happened to you guys. It sounds super crappy.”

Ursa stared at the girl, wondering exactly which of her pills was making her hallucinate a moderately foul-mouthed server. “Super crappy?” she echoed.

“Yeah, totally,” Ty Lee nodded sagely. “I had an aunt who ran a wellness center with her husband, and he stole _everything_ and ran off.” She paused, tilting her head to think. “He was also using the center as a cover to sell mushrooms.”

All three of the Yoshidas silently digested that. “Right, very similar,” Ursa said, hoping her smile looked genuine. “Anyway, could you give us a moment?”

“Yeah, for sure! Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be right over there!” 

“Unbelievable,” Ursa muttered as soon as the dopey girl was out of earshot.

“I think she’s adorable,” Azula said. Ursa’s head snapped towards her, her eyes narrowing. 

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“The waitress. Such cute, small town charm.” Azula gestured towards the girl, who was giggling behind her hand at something a man at a nearby table said. 

“Are you kidding me?” Zuko snapped, shoving the side of Azula’s menu with his arm.

“I’m just _saying,_ guys are looking at this all wrong.” Azula folded her menu and set it on the table in front of her. “This place is quaint, like out of a storybook.”

Ursa could only stare at her daughter, astounded by the shift in attitude. “Azula, what is wrong with you?”

“She didn’t tell you yet? She’s deserting us to run off with Zhao.” Azula shot Zuko a murderous look and not-very-subtly dug her elbow into his ribs.

“Okay, yes, I might be going with Zhao, but think of it as me giving you guys some more space at the motel.”

The only thing keeping Ursa from grinding her teeth together was the knowledge that she could no longer afford new veneers. “Azula, I absolutely forbid you from running off with that despicable man.”

“Okay, well, I’m 26, so you can’t really forbid me from doing anything.” Azula brushed her mother off, like she always did, and raised her arm to beckon the waitress over. 

“We are not done talking about this,” Ursa hissed, before pasting on a smile as Ty Lee returned to their table.

There was an uneasy silence around the table after they ordered. Zuko had pulled out his phone, and Azula was clicking her nails against the table and giving Ursa a headache.

“You never got the towels,” Azula spoke first, resting her chin on her hand that was propped up by her elbow.

“No, I didn’t, because that girl that works the front desk is a total bitch,” Zuko shot back.

“Excuse me?” Iroh’s stern voice startled Zuko so much that he physically jumped up in his seat, banging his knees against the underside of the table.

“Ow, fuck,” he cursed, folding his legs so his knees were curled up against him above the edge of the table. “Uncle, I didn’t mean—”

“I think you did.” Iroh took his seat next to Ursa, his previously jolly face now set in a severe frown. “I know Mai can be a bit prickly, but she is a kind, hard-working girl, and I will not have you speak so disrespectfully of her.”

Zuko turned down to look at the scratched table surface. “Sorry,” he mumbled into the collar of his jacket.

“I don’t think I’m the one you need to apologize to,” Iroh responded. He smiled up at Ty Lee as she returned with everyone’s food, and asked for a cup of jasmine tea. Ursa noted that Zuko was unusually quiet for the rest of the meal.

* * *

The worst week of Zuko’s life got even more miserable when Azula got a text the next afternoon. He had long ago tuned out the chirp of his sister’s notifications, but he could not tune out her gasp, followed by a loud screech. 

“Oh my god, what now?” Zuko’s voice was muffled by the pillow that he was holding over his face.

“Zhao just...broke up with me.” Zuko pulled the pillow away and sat up, a pang of sympathy running traitorously through his heart. Azula was the most annoying person he had ever had to deal with, but he didn’t like the sound of her small, broken voice.

Unfortunately, his pity did not extend to his actual reaction. “Well, duh,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Hasn’t he broken up with you like, six times already?”

“It was only five times, Zuko,” Azula spat back at him. He was impressed that none of the tears that gathered on her lower lash line actually spilled down her face. Her hands were balled up into fists and she was shifting into a fighting stance; he calculated how fast he could run to the door and escape if she started punching walls. “I can’t believe he would just _dump_ me like this,” she fumed, pacing back and forth between her bed and the bathroom. “It’s so fucking _humiliating,_ I was supposed to be his date for Robert Pattinson’s birthday party this weekend.”

“Yeah, didn’t he give you his ex-wife’s engagement ring once?” Zuko pointed out. Azula shrieked in reply and took a threatening step towards him. He quickly stood up, worried that he might have pushed her too far. Someone who didn’t know Azula might mock his fear of his little sister, but she had beaten him every time their father had them spar. The idea of trying to take her on when she was out of her mind with rage made him a little queasy.

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding up his hands like he was trying to placate a wild animal. “That guy was the worst, but I’m sorry.” Him giving up seemed to take the wind out of her sails, and her shoulder slumped. She collapsed onto her bed, putting her face in her hands. Zuko anxiously hovered over her, one hand fluttering over her back before awkwardly patting her on the shoulder. She half-heartedly swiped him away from her, which he took as a sign that she wasn’t completely falling apart. Not that he had ever seen Azula fall apart before, no matter how many foreign embassies she was held at for questioning.

“I’m fine,” she said, taking a deep breath and sitting up straight. She wiped a finger under each of her eyes, although no tears had actually fallen. “I just need a minute.”

“Right.” Zuko stepped away from her. “I’ll just…” he thought back to what his uncle had reprimanded him for at lunch the previous day. “I’ll go talk to the receptionist.” 

When he shut the motel door on Azula, she was already at the mirror, dabbing under her eyes with a tissue and reaching for her mascara.

All of Zuko’s good intentions flew out the window when he saw Mai at the front desk.

“Ew, what are you doing?”

Mai looked up sharply. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re massacring your nail beds.” Zuko stepped closer, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “Where did you get that emery board, CVS?”

“Can I help you with something?” Mai said loudly, putting down her nail file and sitting up straight in her chair.

“Not before I help you. Stay right there,” Zuko called over his shoulder as he jogged out the lobby door. He wasn’t thinking too hard about what he was doing, only that there was a cosmetic crisis _and_ a hygiene crisis happening simultaneously. He grabbed his nail care kit from the bathroom in his motel room, waving off Azula’s bewildered look at his quick return, and made his way back over to the lobby. He half expected Mai to be gone just to spite him. 

But no, she was still at her desk, and even had the offending cardboard nail file out of his sight. Without preamble, Zuko walked behind the counter and sat down in the other chair, twisting it so he was facing Mai. His sudden assertiveness had apparently stunned Mai into silent complacency, for she didn’t yell at him or kick him out. He dug through his bag and pulled out a long silver case, from which he removed a cloudy white file.

“Give me your hand,” he instructed, reaching out to grab it from her lab. She jerked it away from him.

“Gross, I’m not using your nail file!”

Zuko groaned. “It’s Czech glass. It can be sanitized after every use, unlike that germ factory you were rubbing over your nails earlier.” This time when he went to take her hand, she let him. 

They sat quietly for a few minutes as he scraped the edge of the file against her nails, shaping them out of the weird witchy point she had been working on. It had finally caught up to him how awkward it was to be sitting here holding Mai’s hand when he was pretty sure that she hated him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his head down so he could look at his work and not meet her gaze.

“For what?”

“If anything I said offended you.”

“ _If?_ ”

“Oh my god.” Why did she have to make everything so difficult? “I’m sorry _that_ I was a dick to you before. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m kind of having a hard time right now.”

Mai didn’t respond to that, so Zuko looked up. She was staring at him, chewing on her lip. 

“Well?” he prompted. 

“I...probably could have been a little nicer to you,” Mai said carefully. Zuko, equally carefully, released the hand he had just finished working on and took her other hand in his lap. “But to be fair, you make a terrible first impression.”

“Mhmm, you’re not wrong.” Zuko couldn’t help the small smile that flickered at the corner of his mouth. 

Mai examined the nails on the hand he had finished shaping, running the pad of her thumb over the edge of her other fingernails. “So, what’s the difference between my nail file and yours?”

“Are you kidding?” Zuko paused in his work to give her an incredulous glare.

“No, they look the same as when I do it.”

“You are literally insane,” Zuko scoffed, returning to his work. “That sandpaper stick you were using will rip your nails to shreds.” He finished filing her nails and set down the file, then curled her hand in so the tips of her nails brushed against her palms. “See how much smoother that is?”

“You’re taking this very seriously,” Mai commented, and Zuko was starting to get the feeling that she was making fun of him.

“Hand health is a very serious topic,” he replied airily. He found that he was reluctant to let go of her hand. They were having their first pleasant interaction so far, and he was loathe to bring it to an end so he could go back to being stressed about towels. Instead, he rummaged around in his nail kit and pulled out a small wooden stick with a slanted end. Before she could ask about it or pull away, he got to work gently pushing her cuticles up into the nail bed. 

“What are you doing tonight?” she asked suddenly. 

Zuko grimaced. “Hopefully not catching bed bugs from sleeping here.” Mai scoffed, but seemed to be waiting for him to answer. “I don’t know, maybe go for a run before it gets too dark, then take a shower. Assuming I ever get my towels.”

“I’ll get right on that.” Okay, she was definitely making fun of him. But she hadn’t pulled her hand away, or smacked him, or done anything to indicate that he was offending her. So it was progress. “There’s a tailgate party tonight, if you want to come.”

“Um, I don’t really know what that means.” He finished pushing back her cuticles and had no choice but to let go of her hands, unless he was going to start painting her nails like a true psychopath. 

“It means we drink beer and light a campfire and take bets on who’s going to go skinny dipping in the lake,” Mai explained, examining her nails. Zuko couldn’t be sure, but he thought she might have looked a _little_ impressed. 

Zuko hesitated, his desire for attention combatting his desire to succumb to his depression and fall asleep drinking a bottle of wine. He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Azula barging into the lobby. Mai quickly rolled her chair away from Zuko, as though they had gotten caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. He studied his sister carefully, but there was no sign of her earlier meltdown. Her eyes weren’t even puffy, not the way his always were after he had been crying.

“Look at you making friends, Zuzu,” Azula cooed, reaching over the counter to poke him on the nose. He irritably swatted her finger away from his face. “Front desk girl, are you single?” Azula shifted her rather terrifyingly focused attention to Mai, who turned bright red.

“Yes. Why?” 

“Oh, yay! I need to go to like, a club, or a bar, or even a super lowkey yacht party, and you can be my wing-woman,” Azula steamrolled over Mai’s question. “Just somewhere with lots of classy, but not gross-looking guys.”

“You know, they _just_ cancelled tonight’s yacht party.” Mai was back to her usual dry tone. “But I was inviting your brother to a tailgate party tonight.”

“Um, yes! Love that journey for me!” Zuko resisted the urge to scream, because of _course_ Azula was going to make this all about her. “I’m going out behind the motel to take some pics for Instagram, but I want both of you primped and ready to go by nine.” Belatedly, Zuko realized that Azula was dressed in her too-expensive-to-exercise-in gym clothes, the ones she wore just for stylistic photos on her social media. He sourly noted the Phoenix Gyms logo across the band of the matching sports bra and yoga pants. Azula gave him a challenging, almost predatory smile, daring him to comment after their conversation the previous day. He was sorely tempted to say something about Zhao; if their situations were reversed, she wouldn’t hesitate to rub his breakup in his face. 

“Watch out for ticks, you could get Lyme disease and die,” he said instead. “I’m pretty sure this town doesn’t have a doctor, we’d have to bring you to the vet.”

Azula’s face fell. “Ew, gross, Zuzu,” she scolded him before she stalked out of the lobby. Next to Zuko, Mai coughed, though it sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“I guess I’m going to the tailgate party.” Zuko packed up his nail care kit and stood up. “Any chance I could actually get some towels?”

Mai settled back down in her own chair, running the pad of her thumb across the edge of her other nails. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” 

Zuko was pleasantly surprised when, an hour later, a cart piled with fluffy white towels showed up outside his motel room door.


	2. amidst all this chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula uses the tailgate party to make Zhao jealous, and Zuko bonds with the locals.

Azula studied her reflection in the mirror, her mouth slightly open to give the cherry red liquid lipstick a chance to dry. Zuko was standing behind her using the same mirror, running his hands through his hair to try to get it elegantly disheveled. The scruffy look worked for him, she supposed, but she preferred a more immaculate style. Every hair on her head was groomed and held in place with hairspray, her makeup precise and perfect. She practiced a smile, aiming for one that was both flirtatious and enigmatic.

Zuko, satisfied with his appearance, flopped on his bed with his phone. The black leather jacket that he would wear to the party was on a padded hanger on the closet door. Neither sibling paid much attention when their mother wandered in, making a beeline for Zuko’s bed.

“Rub my back, darling,” she demanded, laying down on Zuko’s bed next to him. He started, scooting further away from her on the bed.

“What? No.”

“I rubbed your back many a night when you were little, you owe me,” Ursa argued, closing her eyes. Zuko grumbled, but he of course complied. There was absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do for their mother, Azula thought sourly, and vice versa. The two of them rarely extended such a courtesy to her. 

“Don’t get too comfortable Zuzu, Mai is going to be here soon,” Azula reminded him. 

Ursa cracked one eye open. “The concierge? Whatever for?”

“She’s taking us to a gatecrash party, or something.”

“Tailgate, Azula. It’s a tailgate party.” The nerve of her brother to act like he had any better idea of what a tailgate party was than she did.

“Ah.” Ursa closed both eyes again. “Well, don’t stay out too late, and don’t let any of those drunken vagrants follow you back here. I still have quite a few valuables that any mendicant could get a pretty penny for at the pawn shop.” 

“Wow,” an incredulous voice sounded from the doorway. Mai had taken the half-open motel door as an invitation to come in, and was surveying the room. Her eyes wandered over to Zuko, laying in bed next to their mother rubbing her back, and Azula had to physically bite the side of her cheek to keep from laughing. 

Zuko scrambled out of the bed, his cheeks tinged red. “Anyway, goodnight Mom,” he said loudly. Ursa sighed and got to her feet too.

“Alright, have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” With that incredibly unhelpful advice, Ursa returned to her room, closing the door behind her. 

“Okay, let’s go,” Zuko hurried them, slinging his leather jacket over his shoulders. Azula shrewdly noted the appreciative looks he was casting over to Mai, who was fully leaning into her goth vibe with a fully black ensemble and matching lipstick. Azula mentally shook her head, chiding her brother. _Predictable._

Mai was looking at her now, her mouth doing that snide little smirk that Azula was beginning to associate with her equally snide comments. “You know we’re walking there, right?”

“And?” Azula strode past her, as graceful as ever in her tall stilettos. She had grown up in high heels and didn’t need some Wednesday Adams wannabe telling her how she should dress. “Are you guys coming?” she called over her shoulder, making it a few yards before she had to stop. Embarrassed, she realized she had no idea where the party was from here, and she had to wait for Mai and Zuko to catch up to her.

The party was in full swing by the time they got there, but it was unlike any party Azula had ever been too. Azula was getting from context clues that the “tailgate” part of the tailgate party was all the trucks parked in a circle, their truck beds open and full of coolers. There were a few roaring bonfires scattered throughout the circle, and people milling around drinking beer. Tinny music was coming from someone’s phone. Azula was acutely aware that she was overdressed; her tight, red dress and towering high heels stood out amongst the sea of flannel and denim. Still, that could easily work in her favor. Her goal for the night was to infuriate Zhao, and posting photos of herself with a bunch of rugged country boys would definitely do the trick.

“Have you ever used a beer bong?” Azula turned in alarm, but Mai was asking the question to her brother, not her. Which was good, because she wasn’t intending to blackout within the first fifteen minutes of being at the party.

“No, what’s that?” Zuko replied. An absolutely diabolical grin spread across Mai’s face, and Azula found herself very glad that it wasn’t directed at her.

“Oh, this’ll be fun. Wait here.” She disappeared into the crowd, leaving Zuko and Azula alone. They drew closer together; though Azula wouldn’t admit it, she felt better having him close by. Neither of them blended in with the crowd, and it was a stark, hateful reminder of how far they had fallen. 

Plus, the promise of Zuko trying and failing to chug a can of beer was pretty tempting.

“What are you even doing here?” Zuko asked her, his arms crossed defensively in front of his chest. A group of girls passed by and openly gawked at his scar, and he looked down.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Azula answered honestly. “I’m going to take some pictures of myself partying with a bunch of guys and post them on my Instagram to make Zhao jealous.”

He snorted. “Way to not give him the power.” Mai returned, holding a funnel with a long plastic tube attached to the bottom and a can of beer. 

“Here, hold this,” she instructed, pushing the funnel into Zuko’s arms. He took it, still talking to Azula while Mai opened the can. “Does Zhao even have an Instagram? How’s he going to see the pictures?”

“You know he does, he’s very tech savvy,” Azula sniped back. _For his age,_ was the unspoken modifier. Not that 46 was even _that_ old, but Zuko sure liked to make a big deal about their age gap. 

“I’m just saying, you might be better off posting on Facebook. That’s where all the old people are.” While Zuko continued to (uncreatively) insult her ex, Mai took the beer bong from his hands and unfurled the plastic coil. 

“Put your thumb over the tube,” she told him, and like the cowardly sycophant he was, Zuko did so without thinking about it. Azula refrained from verbalizing her comeback, knowing that what was coming for Zuko was going to be far more entertaining than anything she could say.

Mai poured the open beer into the funnel, allowing it to fill the plastic tube. “Okay, now put the end in your mouth.” 

Zuko finally seemed to realize what was going on. He looked at the end of the beer bong in his hand like it was his first time seeing it. “Wait, what?”

“Put it in your mouth,” Mai repeated herself. Azula watched, delighted, as Zuko obeyed, removing his finger from the tube to put it between his lips. “Get on your knees.” Mai held her end of the funnel up as high as she could while still being able to pour the beer into it, but it didn’t really begin flowing until Zuko got on the ground. “Perfect, just open your throat.” Even from his compromising position, he was still able to shoot Azula a warning glare before she could comment. 

A few other people gathered around, and soon a chant of “ _Chug! Chug! Chug!_ ” resounded through the crowd. Always a people pleaser, Zuko swallowed the entire beer, a trickle of amber liquid going down his chin from the corner of his mouth. It was pretty funny, until she noticed how her brother and Mai were looking at each other. Especially the satisfied way Mai looked down on Zuko, on his knees in front of her. With how needy and… _affectionate_ Zuko got when he was drunk, Azula thought now was the time to break out on her own.

“Okay, I’m going to do a lap. Just come get me after you vomit, m’kay?” Zuko pulled the tube from his mouth and coughed, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth before giving her a thumbs up. 

Azula methodically worked her way through the party, finding small clusters of young men who looked okay enough in the low light to be seen with. Most of them were drunk enough that it didn’t really matter what she said to them, all it took was for her to giggle coquettishly and lean forward just a little too far. It was fun to flex that flirting muscle just long enough to snap a few selfies of her sharing a drink or feeling a guy’s bicep. None of them were worthy of any more than that.

She found herself at the edge of the party, far enough from the fires that the skin on her bare arms had erupted into goosebumps from the chill. The slight buzz she had going did nothing to warm her up, and she thought it might be time to check in on Zuko, assuming he hadn’t already left to go fuck the front desk girl in their motel room.

As she crossed back into the orange glow of the campfires, a figure caught her eye, and she slowed down. She didn’t know when the young man had shown up to the party, but it had to have been recently, because there was no _way_ she would have missed him when she was doing her rounds. Blue tattooed lines ran along his arms and over his forehead, which was visible because his head was completely shaved. He was tall and well-built, muscular arms peeking out of the rolled up cuffs of the flannel shirt he was wearing. Her inspection of his outfit stopped there, because the shirt was completely open, exposing a toned chest and six-pack abs. Her mouth went dry, eyes glued to his form as he moved, the flickering firelight catching and reflecting every plane of his body. 

The man was standing in front of a wok precariously balanced over a fire contained in a metal garbage can, stirring what appeared to be a bunch of vegetables in the pan. A short girl with black hair walked past him and shouted something, and he turned his head to reply, laughing as he spoke. Azula felt her stomach clench at the graceful line of his neck and the sheer _gorgeousness_ of his facial features, her eyes zeroing in on those full lips that were still cocked in a grin. 

Zhao was going to _shit himself._

“You,” she announced, pointing at the man as she walked towards him. He looked up, brows furrowed in confusion, his mouth half-open in a question that she wasn’t going to let him ask. In one well-practiced move, she slung one arm across the back of his neck, captured his lips in hers, and raised her other arm above them to take a photo on her phone.

The art of taking a kissing selfie was a delicate one, and something that Azula was proud to have mastered. You had to hold your phone high enough to get everyone’s good angles, and rotate your bodies out enough that the camera could capture both of your faces while still remaining lip-locked. It had to look _almost_ candid, but she preferred to glance up into the camera, giving enough smouldering eye contact to show that she knew exactly what she was doing.

She managed to take one picture, before her brain began to acknowledge how amazing this random kiss was. The man had clearly been startled by her attack, but he was kissing her back now, and it was _good_. One of those arms she had been admiring had wrapped around her waist, somehow warming her more than the bonfire was. It took a few seconds for her to realize that her phone was curled against her chest, and she was no longer documenting this moment that was strictly for Zhao’s benefit.

Azula broke the kiss abruptly, stepping back out of his reach. They stared at each other, none of the witty lines that Azula rehearsed coming to mind to save her. This close, she could see that the tattoo on his head was a blue arrow. 

Before she could give him her very reasonable explanation for kissing him out of nowhere, she heard a familiar voice calling her name. “Azula! We’re leaving!” Behind her, Zuko had one hand cupped around his mouth and the other draped over Mai’s shoulders. The front desk girl was a lot less enamored with her brother now that she had to physically support his drunk ass. She turned back to her mystery man, who was still regarding her silently. 

“I have to go,” was all she could think to say. She raised one hand and waved goodbye with her fingers, and almost jumped out of her skin when he reached out his own hand to grab it. The move was unexpected, which was working in this guy’s favor, because Azula tended to react to unwanted touching with violence. The man brought her hand towards him, gently pressing his lips against her knuckles.

“It was a pleasure,” he said, in a voice that made her weak in the knees. She took a few steps backwards, until one of her heels caught in a divot on the ground and she stumbled. The sudden jerk brought her back to her senses, and without another word she turned around and strode off to help Mai with her moron of a sibling.

* * *

Zuko was rapidly changing his mind about beer. In the past, beer was a mildly sweaty-tasting drink that people had when they didn’t want to commit to being drunk for the night. He was enjoying it a lot more now, though he usually didn’t consume quite so much of it so rapidly. 

The beer bong had been a new experience, but it was fun being the center of attention of a cheering crowd. It wasn’t a situation he was used to, especially after he had gotten his scar. Mai had asked him if he wanted to do it again, but his head was already swimming and a molecule of his common sense allowed him to turn down her generous offer. The crowd had dispersed after that, as quickly as it had formed, as people searched for something else to entertain them. Azula had already run off, presumably to stick her tongue down a stranger’s throat for internet clout, and it was just him and Mai. They stood awkwardly near each other until Mai offered to grab them more drinks.

“Sure, thanks.” His tongue felt weirdly heavy in his mouth, and she disappeared again. He didn’t have long to stand around and fidget before a familiar girl popped up in front of him.

“Hi!” she beamed. At Zuko’s blank look, she continued. “I’m Ty Lee. From the cafe?”

“Oh, the waitress. Right.” Zuko shifted uncomfortably. “I’m Zuko Yoshida.”

“Oh my _gosh!_ ” Ty Lee gasped and reached out, her hand missing his arm by a mile and flailing unsteadily in the air. He caught her by the forearm, stabilizing her. “Your aura is the most _stunning_ shade of blue,” she gushed.

“I don’t know what that means,” Zuko scowled; the words and tone were nice, but it still felt somewhat insulting.

“Hmm, it doesn’t necessarily _mean_ anything.” Ty Lee looked down and finally seemed to notice that he was holding her upright. “Oops. I might be a little drunk.”

“I couldn’t tell.” To his great relief, Mai showed up bearing two more cans of beer. 

“Hey Ty Lee,” she greeted the waitress, her eyes flitting to Zuko’s hand on the other girl’s arm.

“Heeeeey, Mai!” Ty Lee returned, slurring her words. 

“How about we go sit down somewhere?” Mai suggested, putting her hand in the small of Ty Lee’s back and guiding her to a few abandoned camp chairs around one of the fires. Zuko followed and gratefully flopped into one of the chairs, reaching a hand out for his drink. 

“I didn’t know you two were here together,” Ty Lee said slyly. Her hand went to grab the can in Mai’s hand, which she deftly held out of reach.

“We’re not. Zuko’s family is staying at the motel,” Mai answered flatly.

“Oooooh right, you’re related to Iroh, huh?” The question was directed to Zuko, which gave Mai a chance to open her beer and take a sip. 

“He’s my uncle.”

“Ugh, you’re so lucky! Iroh’s the best!” Zuko was somewhat surprised to hear that. Not that he didn’t like Iroh, but that anyone else would have such a strong opinion about him. He recalled Iroh’s defense in Mai’s honor; both girls he was with were his uncle’s employees. It was definitely a different relationship than his father ever had with any of his employees.

He suddenly thought of Ozai and his secretary and shuddered, taking a large gulp of beer. Well, he hoped it was different.

“So.” Ty Lee turned her attention fully to him, making a truly terrifying amount of eye contact. Nobody made eye contact with Zuko like that, not anymore. He braced himself for her to ask about his scar. “Where did you get that cool jacket?”

“Oh.” Zuko blinked and glanced down at himself self-consciously. The jacket was one of many black leather jackets that he owned, although the lining of this one was a shimmery metallic gold. “It’s actually from this boutique shop in Brooklyn. They only let one person inside at a time, and all the staff people there are blind and have to dress you based on feel.”

“Ex _cuse_ me?” Mai cut in. Ty Lee cackled and pinched the corner of his jacket between her fingers. Both demanded more details, which he was happy to give.

The rest of the evening passed in a similar fashion, the three of them comfortably seated around the campfire. Zuko lost track of how many drinks he had, but it was enough to make his head feel like it was floating a few feet above his body. The two girls ruined his entire plan to spend the party sulking in the corner alone. Ty Lee was bubbly and embarrassment-proof, and full of an endless supply of off-kilter anecdotes. Mai was surprisingly fun to talk to as well, when she wasn’t being needlessly rude to him. There were a lot of things he liked about Mai, he was finding. At one point, Ty Lee made a joke about one of her coworkers and Mai actually laughed, a low, husky sound.

“I like that,” he mumbled, then felt his entire body turn to fire when Mai and Ty Lee stopped talking to look at him. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but his body had betrayed him. “Your laugh. You have a nice laugh,” he clarified, unable to think of a good lie. Ty Lee snorted in amusement, and Mai rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough.” Mai plucked Zuko’s half-finished beer can out of his hands and took a drink from it. Zuko was so fascinating watching her delicately place her lips where his had been a second ago that he completely missed Ty Lee’s question.

“Uh huh,” he said vaguely, somewhat aware that the waitress had asked him a question. Ty Lee and Mai exchanged a glance that he didn’t understand.

“I was asking about your dad,” Ty Lee repeated herself, leaning forward. Zuko frowned. Of all his least favorite topics in the world, his dad was at the top of the list, along with world politics and bugs that didn’t seem like they had wings, but they did.

“What about him?” Zuko asked warily.

“Well, I know he stole all your money, but what did he do? Like, for work? Iroh won’t tell us.”

Zuko blinked. He was so used to people just _knowing_ his father. In New York, when he said he was a Yoshida working at Phoenix Gyms, he could ask for anything he wanted and be confident he would receive it. He hadn’t thought about Iroh apparently being ashamed of the family business.

“He’s the founder of Phoenix Gyms.” The blank looks from Mai and Ty Lee disoriented him even more, and he was again questioning what kind of backwoods town they had stumbled into. “Wow, okay. It’s a very exclusive, high-profile fitness club. Like, for celebrities and politicians.”

“Oh wait, is it the one that costs like, a thousand dollars a year to join?” Mai cut in. Her tone made it clear that she was not impressed.

“Usually it’s $3000 a year, but yeah.”

“$3000? A _year_? Per _person_? You guys must be loaded!” Ty Lee interjected, her eyes wide.

“We were,” Zuko replied sourly. Ty Lee didn’t pick up on his change in attitude, but Mai was looking over at him perceptively.

“I’m ready to go,” Mai said abruptly and stood up. Zuko scrambled to follow suit. He swayed alarmingly once he was on his feet, his vision suddenly tripling. Mai cursed under her breath and came over to support him, one of her arms snaking around her back. He threw an arm over her shoulder and sagged, grateful for the assistance. 

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” Mai muttered under her breath. 

“It’s all muscle, I swear.” Zuko’s mouth felt like it was full of cotton balls. “I work out like five thousand times a day.” Or he did, back when his father would pull out the calipers once a week to pinch the fat on his stomach to make sure he wasn’t ‘letting himself go.’ Maybe in this new, sad life, he could cut down to two thousand times a day.

“Yeah, I can tell.” Before he could respond to that, Mai turned to address Ty Lee. “You good here?”

“Yep! I think I’m going to roast a marshmallow,” Ty Lee replied, hopping to her feet and tottering over to another fire that appeared to be a s’mores making station. 

“Fantastic. Where’s your sister?” That question was directed to Zuko, who scanned the party for the distinctive red of Azula’s dress.

“There! Oh gross, we’ve been in this town for like fifteen minutes,” he pointed to where his sister was currently sucking face with a strange man. Azula stepped away, and Zuko shouted to get her attention. He waited impatiently as Azula waved goodbye, only for the man to grab her hand and kiss it, like they were in a Jane Austen novel.

“If he follows us back to the motel, I’m calling the police,” Zuko threatened as Azula picked her way across the party back to them, carefully avoiding piercing any trash with her heels.

“That’s fair,” Mai agreed. Azula’s rebound guy followed her trajectory and saw that she was heading for Mai and Zuko. His face lit up and he waved. Mai responded by flipping him off.

“So is that a friend or an enemy? I honestly can’t tell,” Zuko asked, watching as the man laughed and stuck out his tongue at Mai.

“A friend. Mostly.” She didn’t elaborate further, and by that point Azula had reached them. 

It seemed to take them twice as long to walk back to the motel as it had to walk to the party. Zuko had a strong suspicion that it was his fault, mostly because Azula dug her nails into his arm so hard that he could feel them through the leather and told him to stop being an asshole and walk in a straight line. Mai had long since shaken his arm off her shoulders, leaving Azula to deal with him. The chilly night air sobered him up enough that he was almost walking like a person by the time they reached the motel.

“Are you staying here?” he asked Mai, confused when he saw that her car wasn’t in the parking lot.

“No, I’m heading home, it’s not far. I just wanted a front row seat if you ate it on the walk home.” 

“A delight as always.” Zuko leaned on Azula just long enough to dig in his jacket pocket for the motel key. 

His first night in the motel had been restless, but tonight Zuko fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

“How are you still drinking?” Aang sounded both impressed and disgusted as he passed Mai a new beer bottle. She cracked it open against the edge of his dining room table on a well-scuffed corner and reclined back on the couch.

“Years of practice,” she replied, already comfortably warm in her buzz. She was a firm believer of the healing power of the hair of the dog that bit her, and had already managed to stave off her headache from the party the previous night.

“You’re insane.” He dropped down on the couch next to her, nursing his own hangover with a few tylenol and a swig of water. A giant, fluffy dog padded out from the bedroom, draping his head over Mai’s legs.

“You aren’t working today?” Mai asked as she absent-mindedly began scratching the dog behind the ears.

“No, Katara switched to Saturdays, that’s the only reason I went out last night. You?”

“Iroh’s covering me for the day, but I have the overnight shift.” Mai groaned and rubbed at her temple, telling herself the pain was from her work stress and not the alcohol. “Those new people are driving me crazy.”

“Oh right, they’re staying at the motel, aren’t they?” Aang chuckled unsympathetically. “Ty Lee was telling me about them.”

“Yeah, they’re the worst.”

“You seemed to be getting along with that guy. Zuko, right? He’s cute.”

Mai huffed scornfully. “I mean, one, I’m pretty sure he’s gay. And also, I tolerate him because he’s entertaining. It’s like watching a car crash.”

“Oh c’mon, he can’t be that bad.”

“He threw a fit because, and I quote, ‘the temperature fluctuations in this room are going to ruin my leathers.’”

Aang chuckled at that. “Okay, that’s pretty bad.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Although I don’t think he’s gay, I’m getting bi vibes.” 

“You think everyone’s bi.”

“Still.” He took another drink of water and smirked. “I liked his sister.”

Mai groaned. “Of course _you_ could show up to a party looking like shit and still have a stranger make out with you.”

Aang gave a dramatic gasp of mock outrage. “How dare you insult my formal wear like that?”

“Ha ha. God, what were you even cooking?”

“Stir fry.”

“You brought stir fry to a tailgate party?”

“I didn’t eat dinner!” Aang pouted. “I still have some left in the fridge, if you’re hungry.”

Well, Mai was never one to turn down free food, especially since Aang was a pretty good cook. She gently pushed the dog’s head aside and stood up, heading for the kitchen. A crash, followed by the sound of shattering glass coming from outside made both her and Aang jump. He got to his feet and ran outside. Mai debated following him, but decided to serve herself some lunch before doing so. It probably wasn’t that big of a deal, and she was hungry.

* * *

“Zuko. Zuko. Zuzu.” Azula ducked the pillow that her brother flung at her head. “Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Die,” he mumbled, turning away from her and pulling his blanket over his head. His moaning did nothing to dissuade her from pulling open the curtains and allowing the early afternoon sunshine to filter into the room. Azula sat down at the foot of his bed, far enough out of his reach that he couldn’t kick her.

“So, that guy from last night. He’s not for me, right?”

Zuko was silent for a few seconds, then his head popped out of the comforter. “What?”

“That tattooed guy that I kissed at the party.” Azula was looking at her Instagram page, scrolling through the photos she had posted the previous night. She stopped at the one of her kissing the man with the blue arrows. It had ended up a little blurry, and the campfire had cast a weird glow over her face, but she had posted it anyway. “He’s gross, right? Like, that’s not a thing for me.”

Accepting that he wasn’t going to get to sleep anymore, Zuko finally sat upright, one hand blindly groping for the hair tie that he had put on the bedside table. “You mean the hitchhiker that brought a wok to a party and was burning vegetables over a garbage can?” 

“Yeah, that one.” 

Zuko scooted forward and leaned over her shoulder as he pulled his hair up into a bun. Azula was still looking at the photo, and had zoomed in on the man’s face. “I don’t know, he’s pretty hot, for a vagrant.”

“Okay, right?” Azula allowed herself one last, lingering glance at the photo before she shut her phone off. 

“I thought this whole thing was just to make Zhao jealous, not to actually find a new thing for you,” Zuko pointed out, nudging her with his foot until she stood up and he could get out of bed. 

“I can multitask.” Azula settled on a chair while Zuko dug through his closet for something to wear. “I’m surprised you made it back here last night.”

Zuko paused in his excavating, poking his head out of the closet. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I thought you and the receptionist were going to go have weird depressing sex in like, a graveyard or something.”

“God, Azula! Gross!” he sputtered, flushing pink. Azula smirked at how easily flustered Zuko got. It was his own fault, for making his crushes so obvious. “I’m pretty sure she hates me anyway,” he grumbled, his attention turned back to his clothes.

“Okay, well, if you want to come back here, just make sure I’m gone. The quiet, sarcastic ones are always the loudest in bed.” Zuko lazily flipped her off on his way to the dresser. Her sister duties now fulfilled, she dug around in her purse until she found her headphones. “I’m going for a run, I’ll meet you and mom at the cafe after.” Whatever snarky remark Zuko was going to say was cut off by a huge yawn. 

Though Azula occasionally used the GPS on her phone to keep from getting lost, she was content to let her feet carry her where they wanted to go. The town wasn’t as ugly as she had thought when they had driven in. In the brilliant afternoon light it was almost picturesque. She tried not to let her mind wander to Zhao’s betrayal. She had almost lost her control in front of Zuko, which was embarrassing enough. She certainly didn’t want to break down in public like this. Her mind instead wandered to the tattooed man, the one with the broad shoulders and shaved head that weirdly worked for him. 

She slowed down to a light jog, noticing that she had come to the edge of the town and was now in a field. The quiet solitude was allowing her to look at the meadow with much kinder eyes, and she could appreciate the smell of the fresh grass and the chirping of songbirds. Set in the middle of the field was a barn, which she found intriguing precisely because it didn’t appear moldy and neglected. She pulled her headphones out of her ears and crept towards it, noting the rows of vegetables and the planter boxes full of flowers in a well-maintained garden. Though she hadn’t really been looking, she had found a perfect place to work.

Very few people considered what she did “work,” least of all her brother and her mother. But running a very popular fitness and travel Instagram page _was_ very hard work, and she took it very seriously. Every photo and video on her official page was carefully composed and perfectly lit. The sponsorships she brought in were enough to give her a little extra spending money when she wanted to buy something she thought her father wouldn’t approve of. She hadn’t heard from most of her sponsors since The Incident (as she was calling her father’s abandonment), but that didn’t mean that she could slack off now.

Azula had resigned herself to shooting most of her content behind the motel, but the cute little barn was much more photogenic. The barn was clearly not abandoned, but she figured that whoever maintained it was probably at their real house this early in the morning. A little bit of snooping wouldn’t hurt.

Whoever owned this barn was clearly an idiot, she thought as she withdrew her foot from the ceramic succulent pot she had kicked over. Who put a fragile decoration like that on the ground? She frantically picked up the pot, only to have it break to pieces, spilling dirt all over her feet. Before she could drop the whole thing to the ground and run away, the door to the barn opened, and her tattooed man sprinted out.

He slowed when he saw her, his eyes flitting between the pieces of ceramic clenched in her hands and her face. He crossed his arms and waited for her to speak.

“I...um...is this yours?” was all Azula could think to say, holding up the shattered pot. Another piece of it splintered off and fell to the ground.

“Yes, this is all mine, I live here,” he answered. He didn’t seem mad, which was good. However, she did get sidetracked by his statement.

“Wait, you live here?” She gestured to the barn, which she was not aware was habitable for humans. “In the barn?”

The man chuckled good-naturedly, and good _God_ , if he could stop being sexy for five minutes for her to gather her thoughts, that would be great. “Yes, I live in the barn.” He stepped forward, and Azula’s breath hitched in her throat, but he just held out his hands to take the remains of the pot from her. He then knelt down and meticulously picked up the other pieces of ceramic. He dumped the shards in a nearby garbage can, brushed his hands against his jeans, then offered one out to her to shake. “I’m Aang, by the way.”

Though Azula was generally reluctant to touch things that had recently touched dirt, she found herself accepting the hand. “I’m Azula.” The handshake was short, though long enough for Azula to see that the blue arrows extended all the way down his arms to the back of his hands. “So, why do you live in a barn? Are you like...a poor person, or...?” She trailed off, unable to think of any other reason that a person would live in a barn.

Aang looked startled by the question. “Uh, no, but thanks for asking.” He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. “I just like living off the grid. It’s more eco friendly, you know? I grow a lot of my own food too.” He gestured to the garden, where Azula could now see tiny signs labelling each row of plants. Adorable.

“But you do have a job, right?” Azula was finding her tattooed man more perplexing by the second. The idea of a person with an actual job living in a barn on the edge of town was entirely alien to her.

“Yes, I have a job. I’m the town veterinarian.”

“Oh, fun! Love all the little furry....things,” Azula exclaimed, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on her false enthusiasm. Truthfully, she disliked all animals, especially the furry ones, but she had no intention of letting the cute homeless-y vet know that.

An awkward pause followed, the kind that Azula worked desperately hard to avoid in her conversations, because they usually led to her saying something weird that made the situation worse. 

“So—”

“What—”

They both tried to speak at the time. Azula snapped her mouth shut, internally screaming, fuming at how quickly she had lost control of this conversation. Interestingly enough, Aang seemed more amused than anything.

“So, did you need help with something?” He spoke when it was clear that she was waiting for him to go first. Too late, Azula realized how strange this would seem from his perspective: a strange woman that kissed him out of the blue at a party showing up at his house.

“Oh, no, I was just out for a run and saw the cute little barn out here. I was surprised, it’s not as gross-looking as I would have thought.”

“Uh huh,” he raised an eyebrow, while she contemplated the pros and cons of running away like a frightened deer. 

“Anyway,” she said hurriedly, her pride refusing to allow her to slink away. “I’m actually glad to see you. I didn’t want you to think that kiss was something more than it was.”

“Okay.” He crossed his arms across his chest, the bright blue of his tattoos flashing in the golden sunlight. 

“Yeah, I was a little drunk, and I was just using you to make my ex jealous.” It took all of her willpower to look at his face and not at the way his T-shirt stretched across his shoulders when he moved. “It was nothing personal.” 

“Good to know,” he said airily. “Let me know if you need to make anyone else jealous,” he added, grinning.

Taken aback by his bold flirtation, Azula found herself struck dumb, like a schoolgirl. Before she could muster up an equally flirtatious response, the barn door swung open again and Mai, of all people, sauntered out. She was holding a faintly steaming bowl in her hands, and glanced down at the succulent that was still sitting in a lone pile of dirt by Azula’s feet. “Why are you murdering Aang’s plants?” 

Azula gaped, truly caught off guard. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you two were…” Her face was steadily heating up as the events of last night replayed in her mind, this time with her newly acquired information. “I swear, I didn’t know you were dating when I kissed him, please don’t like, put a rat in my room.”

Rather than curse her out or throw the bowl in her face, Mai threw her head back and laughed. Aang was also laughing. “Yeah, she wishes,” he teased, throwing one arm around Mai’s neck and pulling her in against him. 

“Hey, stop that! Hot food,” Mai protested, scrabbling to keep her bowl upright. She put one hand in the middle of his face and pushed him away, taking a step to the side to get out of his reach. Azula observed the interaction intently, searching for signs that either of them were secretly into the other. It didn’t seem like it; Mai seemed far more focused on eating than staring longingly at Aang, and he was looking down at his shirt to see if Mai had spilled anything on him. Not that she cared, of course, if the front desk girl and her tattooed man were secretly in love with each other. The sense of relief she felt was purely because she hadn’t accidentally kissed another girl’s boyfriend.

“We’re not dating,” Aang clarified further. “Mai just likes to come over and hang out with my dog.”

“I’d choose Appa over you in a heartbeat,” Mai added. 

“I know, you've told me that so many times.” Aang turned back to Azula. “Do you want to come in and hang out? We were just about to watch a movie.”

There was nothing that Azula would like to do less than third-wheeling their little friend date in a _barn._ “Thank you, but I’m supposed to meet up with my brother for lunch.” 

“Maybe next time,” Mai drawled, in a way that made Azula think that she would not be welcome next time. She put her headphones back in her ears and jogged away, sure that she could feel Aang’s gaze on her as she headed back into town.

* * *

Iroh was working at the motel and Azula was still out, so it was just Zuko sitting in the cafe booth with Ursa. If she was being really honest, she preferred it that way. She knew that one was not supposed to have a favorite child, but her and Zuko just _got_ each other in a way that her and Azula didn’t. It hadn’t helped that Azula spent much of her teen years and adult life traveling the world, often out of contact for weeks at a time. 

“How’s your head?” she asked, lowering her menu so she could peek over the top of it at her rather pale son. He mumbled incoherently in reply. Ursa tsked and returned her attention to the menu. “Drink plenty of water.” Oh, to be young and battling a hangover in a trashy diner in the middle of the afternoon again.

“Zuko, stop crying into your menu and move over.” At some point in the last minute, Azula had shown up, her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. 

“I’m not crying,” Zuko complained, but he scooted over until he was sitting against the wall. The peppy waitress came by to take their orders, seemingly no worse for wear after the party last night. Azula seemed bright eyed and bushy tailed as well, which had Ursa concerned about how boring the party must have been for everyone to be doing so well the next morning. Apparently Zuko was the only one having any fun in this town.

Ursa was facing away from the door, so she didn’t see the couple come in until they were standing right at the edge of their table. She glanced up to see a young man and woman, about Zuko’s age, grinning rather aggressively down at them. 

Hey! We haven’t gotten a chance to meet yet, and I just wanted to introduce myself,” the man said brightly, shoving a hand into Ursa’s face. “I’m Sokka Naitok, the town mayor, and this is my wife, Yue.” They were both tall and dark skinned, dressed casually despite their official status. Yue had stark white hair styled up in a rather intricate pattern, and Sokka had one arm slung around his wife’s waist with his hand dipping dangerously low, considering they were in public.

Ursa slowly took the proffered hand and shook it delicately. “Charmed. I’m Ursa, and these are my children, Zuko and Azula.” For once, her kids were paying attention; the mayor’s manic energy was enough to distract them from their phones. 

“Aren’t you a little young to be a mayor?” Zuko asked bluntly. Ursa silently agreed; if the town was being run by a couple of millennials, it was no wonder it was such a shithole. 

“Well thank you, Zuko!” Sokka beamed, apparently not picking up on Zuko’s insulting tone. “I know, I know, I may look like a teenager, but I promise you I am fully capable of running this town. My father was the mayor before me, and he taught me everything he knows.” 

Not having met this father, Ursa was not reassured by this news. 

“We’re so sorry to hear about what happened,” Yue said, sugary sweet. “That must have been awful, to have lost everything like that.”

“We’re getting by,” Ursa responded, ready for this conversation to end. Instead, Sokka reached behind him and grabbed a nearby chair, dragging it to the edge of their table. He dropped down in the booth next to Ursa.

“You don’t mind if we join you, do you?” he asked, though there was clearly no way to answer in the negative. Yue settled in the new chair, clearly not put off by her husband’s rude antics. Zuko and Azula looked as uncomfortable as Ursa felt, but there seemed to be little they could do.

“Of course not,” she replied, pressing herself against the wall to give herself as much space as possible from the odd mayor. He did not share her desire for personal space, resting his elbows on the table in a manner that brought him even closer to Ursa. 

“You know, you look really familiar,” he stated, pointing at her with a finger that came upsettingly close to poking her in the eye. He snapped his fingers, again far too close to her face for comfort. “The Dragon Empress! You’re the Dragon Empress!”

All of her annoyance with the mayor and his simpering wife vanished in an instance. “I am indeed,” she bowed her head graciously, her heart soaring the way it did whenever she was recognized for her television roles. “I’m surprised, not many people your age are familiar with that particular body of work.”

“Are you kidding? I used to watch _Love Amongst the Dragons_ every night with my parents! You were my dad’s and my favorite character.” 

“Well, I’m always happy to hear that my work has helped bring families together.”

“Come on Sokka, leave the poor woman alone,” Yue interrupted, her smile tightening on her face. 

“I will, I will,” he said dismissively. “I just have a few questions about season three.”

“Funny you should mention that…” Ursa was vaguely aware of her children groaning and flopping back in their seats, but she didn’t care. Finally, one of the simpletons in this town wanted to talk about something _interesting._

Ursa had landed the starring role in the day-time soap opera _Love Amongst The Dragons_ when she was barely twenty years old. The show had been fairly popular in the 90s, enough that Ursa was recognized almost every time she went out. More than that, it had lifted her out of poverty and into an elite social circle that fit her tastes perfectly. Throughout the years, she had taken bit parts in various other TV shows and movies, but she had a special place in her heart for _Love Amongst The Dragons._ It was her first big role, her first chance to be the star of something. She had met Ozai on that set. She was fairly certain that they conceived Zuko in her trailer.

She wasn’t recognized that often anymore. Especially after all of this, she was fairly confident she would be seen as an abandoned wife before a six time Emmy nominee. One could hardly blame her for wanting to talk about her old show with a fan. Even if said fan was just a little bit unhinged. Sokka kept leaning in closer to her, waving his hands around animatedly as he discussed his favorite of her acting choices. Ursa couldn’t help but notice Yue watching them intently, though she smiled every time Ursa caught her eye. She, of course, had no intention of stealing this woman’s babbling husband away from her, but she couldn’t deny the savage thrill of making another woman _jealous._ Especially one as young and beautiful as Yue. 

The mayor and his wife left when the food showed up, Yue reminding him multiple times that they had previous plans. As Ursa watched Zuko and Azula swap food and peek at each other’s phones, a fond smile came her lips. She remembered Iroh’s comforting words when they arrived, so scared and alone. 

_It’s going to be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! So yeah, the story will continue through more of these "episodes," I hope yall enjoy this format! Feel free to message me on tumblr @praetorqueenreyna with questions/thoughts!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have questions/thoughts, please come talk to me on tumblr @praetorqueenreyna.


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